


Exposure Therapy

by Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw



Series: February Ficlet Challenge 2021 [6]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Past Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29252034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw/pseuds/Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw
Summary: Years after the Reaper War, Shepard tries to face one of the many things that still haunt her - the memory of dying over Alchera.Pairing: Female Shepard/Garrus VakarianPrompt: Terminal
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Series: February Ficlet Challenge 2021 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141604
Kudos: 6
Collections: February Ficlet Challenge 2021: Apocalypse No





	Exposure Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> Fitting for today - Garrus, as always, has her six.

Garrus awoke to the thrashing of his wife’s limbs. “Shepard! Wake up.” He shook her gently, helping her back to consciousness. It was a ritual he was too familiar with. “It’s okay,” he purred. “We won, everyone’s alive, the Reapers are gone.” He held her close, letting his subvocalizations reverberate through her body until she jolted back to wakefulness. “Reapers? Kaiden? Alchera?” Shake, shake, nod. He waited, holding her close, until her breathing was something approaching normal.

“How do turians overcome their fears?”

Garrus whistled and scratched the back of his neck. ”Mostly we smother them under increasingly thick layers of duty and self-sacrifice. Which sounds like what we tried during the Reaper War...and has stopped working.” He shrugged. “How do humans?” 

“Mmm…” Shepard crawled out of bed, fished for a datapad, and began to browse. Garrus curled comfortably around her while she searched, vaguely dozing until she drove an elbow into his midsection. “This. I want to do this.” 

Garrus’s mandibles flared with surprise. “I didn’t know you could do something like that. Okay, let’s make an appointment. We can make it there in…” He consulted his omnitool. “Four days?”

Four days later…

The drill sergeant turned instructor bellowed at them over the roar of the dropship’s engines. “You are strapped into a military surplus, ultra-reinforced, orbital entry suit! You will launch yourself out of the hatch like a piece of ordinance until you hit terminal velocity! Your glide pack will then automatically engage to safely descend to the planet’s surface! Any questions?!” He seemed surprised that neither of his charges seemed fazed by his delivery, and merely shrugged.

“Are you...okay?” Garrus struggled to find the right word before ending limply. 

“Of course not! This is insane!” Shepard hissed back. “I fed a reaper to a thresher maw and this is insane! We’re jumping from high orbit to the planet’s surface and hoping to walk away from it.”

“Exactly!” Garrus’s volume rose as the hatch began to open. “You beat Saren, you beat the Collectors, you beat the Reapers.” He pulled her into a tight embrace. “The only thing left to face is the only thing scarier than all three.”

“This is a terrible pep talk!” Shepard shouted back.

“You have to face yourself and your own mortality!” Garrus’s trill was nearly lost in the howling winds. “On the bright side, we’re going to do it together!” With that, he leaned to the rear of the dropship, letting his greater height and mass pull them out of the craft.

“I’m going to kill you!”

“Not if crashing into the planet doesn’t do it first!” 

“Sonufabitch,” the instructor muttered as the hatch closed. “Was that Commander Shepard?”

Two seconds later…

Shepard had nearly tuned out the constant muted shriek of the orbital winds. And her own efforts to scream her throat raw. This was just like Alchera: too fast, no control, not enough oxygen getting to her lungs. 

A sudden _plink_ echoed over the cacophony. “You still with me!?” Garrus called, his helmet pressed against hers. 

Okay, this was different. Garrus hadn’t been there before. Good different. Her breathing slowly returned to a manageable level and the knot in her intestines slowly began to loosen. Even through the thick plating of the dropsuit, she could feel his presence there, face to face, as they hurtled ever faster, tumbling end over end, heat sink after heat sink hitting capacity. It was strangely beautiful, she realized, as the superheated atmosphere careened around them, a fatal aurora dancing for them. She still couldn’t help but notice that they were somehow still getting faster, but at least it provided something else to focus on.

“Okay, I’m with you,” she said at last, and couldn’t help but mimic her husband as his mandibles approximated a smile. This was fine, this was something she had wanted to do, this was so much better than Alchera. In fact, she was just starting to--

Their glide packs engaged as one, jolting them apart until only their hands remained joined, nearly jerking her arm out of her surgically repaired shoulder. A kaleidoscope of colors rocketed past, gradually calming until she could pick out continents and oceans, then mountain ranges and lakes, then snaking rivers and low valleys. Instinctively, she squeezed Garrus’s hand and got a squeeze in reply: Yeah, I see it too. 

They were soaring now, not crashing, and with no worlds to save or errands to run, Shepard was content to watch it grow ever closer. She was reminded vaguely of snorkeling rather than skydiving, and watching a serene, alien landscape reveal itself. She even spared a snort of laughter for the thought of Garrus bringing a rifle up here - he’d never had such a perch in his life. 

Another double-squeeze of her hand finally broke through her reverie. That was their signal for their final descent. Shepard shook her head and spared one last glance for the planet below before focusing on her HUD. She wouldn’t mind revisiting this in a dream, she decided, and began her final approach.


End file.
